


Good Life

by OnlySkyAboveMe



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pining, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 19:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15274992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlySkyAboveMe/pseuds/OnlySkyAboveMe
Summary: A song fic set to ‘Good Life’ by Francis Dunnery





	Good Life

You met him around the same time I met her, not long after we amicably decided we were not meant to be, that the pressure was too much and the feelings unmanageable, too volatile and imbued with too much complicated history. You were unsure about telling me about him at first, as was I about her. He is a tall, blonde Quebecois who works in real estate. He's a nice guy, comes from a good family, shares your interests and passions, matches your personality. She is petite with dark hair and eyes, a bright smile and a warm heart. Her parents moved to Canada from India a few years before she was born, they bonded with my parents over their shared passion for family and business. We spend time together, the four of us go out for dinners and even go on a weekend away. Neither of us wants the other to be gone from our lives, not when so much time and effort has been expended thus far. They understand, are understanding. We are different now when we are around each other. The moment has passed, the feelings have passed.

Your wedding is beautiful, and everything I know you always wanted. I stand at the back in the corner, three month old Will on my shoulder, and I bounce from foot to foot and rub small circles into his back as I try to get him to settle and not disturb the ceremony. You're wearing a stunning white dress of flowing lace which hugs your silhouette perfectly, long dark hair scooped and twisted around your head. Your eyes sparkle like the diamonds that adorn your ears, neck and ring finger, trained solely on the man who is reciting his vows to you. It brings a smile to my face to see you so happy. I remember my own wedding with fondness; huge, loud, colourful, full of family and friends. She helped you buy a sari for the occasion, you designed her a beautiful set of bangles. We all danced the night away.

* * *

You show up on our doorstep 10 months after the wedding. He cheated, you left. You sleep on the couch because the spare room is now the nursery. You only stop crying when Will takes several wobbling steps towards you, and you scoop him onto your lap and kiss his chubby cheeks. Several days later you return to Montreal to meet the lawyers. It's messy and cruel, he has hidden money, property and other assets from you. You manage to leave with your dignity, but your heart is shattered. Your family picks up the pieces and you rebuild yourself with grace. You don't date though, you say your heart has been compromised. You cry for the opportunities you feel you've missed, you gaze wistfully at Will's pushchair when we meet for coffee every Tuesday. My heart breaks for you.

You move back to London, but we move to Toronto shortly after, both pulled by job offers we cannot refuse. We work long hours, on opposite schedules. She asks me for a divorce just after Will turns two. I am blindsided, but admit my own failings in our relationship. The divorce is quiet and amicable. Assets are divided fairly and custody of Will is split. You're in Toronto on business when it happens. I'm lonely, you're restless. We undo years of hard work in less than an hour. We fuck, we cry, we argue, you leave. I call you to apologise the next day, I try and fight for you, but you say you don't want that and we agree to go back to the way things were. It takes us a while, but eventually we see each other for our weekly coffee again.

* * *

A few months later you get married on a beach in the Bahamas. You return sun-kissed and blissfully happy. The man you have chosen is perfect for you, and he proves it time and time again. You have three children in as many years, they are happy, well-raised and full of joy. Cassie is your mini-me, with vibrant green eyes and freckles on her nose. You become a version of you I always wanted to see; content, satisfied, wholly loved - something I know I cannot give you, though it's all I desire to do. You keep me in your life, I'm a constant presence at Birthday parties and family events, I take my role as 'Uncle'/Godfather very seriously.

Your family ends up in Toronto too, living on the same street as me in the suburbs. You pretend you don't hear the clanging of bottles every Friday when I empty them into my recycling bin, but you do speak to my mother. I'm mad at you for a while, but in the end you did the right thing. Our kids go to the same school, play soccer in the same little league, skate at the same skating club. We all see each other every day, we carpool to and from school and sporting events. When I watch Will take Cassie's hand at their first competition, their heads barely visible above the boards, Will's skates sporting black covers just as my own once did, I feel nothing but pride.

Every day I wish it would get easier, that I might stop loving you, wanting you in a way I cannot have you. But it never subsides, and the regrets about our past never leave me. It takes everything in my power not to confess this to you. You are happy, you are loved, and I couldn't do that to you. I care too much about you to do that to you. So, I offer to look after your children when you go away on your second honeymoon, I help your husband build a deck in your back yard, I take Ben to his hockey match when you and your husband can't be in three places at once.

Cassie outgrows Will the summer before he starts high school, and they both return to single skating. His mother is offered a job in Vancouver and we decide that I should move out to BC too. It is both a relief and a wrench to be apart from you. I call you one night, more drunk than I've ever been before and oblivious to the time difference that now lies between us. You cry and he takes your phone and tells me to call back when I'm sober. I don't. I never stop thinking about you.

**Author's Note:**

> I was attacked by my Spotify playlist on the way to work this morning. I thought I’d share the pain...


End file.
